They Know
by Aiyta
Summary: Various short-stories/drabbles as Arnold and Helga's previously secret relationship is revealed to their classmates, friends and families.
1. Jamie-O Was Right

**"They Know"**

Various short-stories/drabbles as Arnold and Helga's previously secret relationship is revealed to their classmates, friends and families..

Stories are all separate and different scenarios, they are not linked to one another.

* * *

Jamie-O Was Right  
(_11 years old__)_

"Hey man." Gerald smiled as he made his way into Arnold's room and flopped onto the couch.

"Thanks for coming." Arnold began nervously, sitting up on his bed and eyeing his best friend nervously.

"I'm glad you're finally telling me, you've been acting strange for weeks." Gerald complained, referring to Arnold's earlier phone call informing him that he had something to tell him.

"I just didn't know how to tell you." Arnold explained.

Gerald looked at his friend and shrugged, "Can't be that bad. So what's this secret all about my man?"

"It's um..." Arnold began, searching for the right words.

"It's a girl isn't it?" Gerald raised an eyebrow in anticipation.

Arnold nodded, a reluctant smile crossing his face.

"Way to go man!" Gerald congratulated him, jumping to his feet in excitement, "Do I know her?"

Arnold nodded again.

Gerald grinned, "I think I know where you're going with this, she's goes to our school right?"

Arnold winced, he was fairly certain Gerald _didn't_ know where this was going at all, but he could play along for now, "Yes"

"And she's in our class.." Gerald continued.

Arnold nodded, "Yes."

"And I saw you talking to her today.." Gerald revealed.

"You did?" Arnold asked in shock, wondering how he'd managed to witness one of their secret discussions.

"Yeah during lunch in the cafeteria an-" Gerald continued.

Arnold's eyes grew wide, Gerald was missing the mark, "No Gerald, I think you've got the wrong idea."

"No, I _saw _you and you practically grinning at each other an-" Gerald explained.

"Gerald!" Arnold yelled, snapping his friend out of his thoughts.

"So, like I said, I saw you getting all giggly with Lila in the cafeteria so I already knew." Gerald huffed.

"I'm not with Lila." Arnold explained.

"Then why was she all excited?" Gerald crossed his arms.

"Because I was telling her what I am trying to tell you." Arnold said.

"What! You told your old crush about your new crush before you told your best friend?" Gerald asked angrily.

"Girlfriend, not crush." Arnold muttered.

"Girlfriend? Girlfriend! Why does Lila Sawyer get to know before me?" Gerald whined.

"Well, she sort of already knew... Certain things." Arnold tried to reason.

"I'm your best friend!" Gerald reminded him.

"I know." Arnold assured him.

Gerald wiped the frown from his face and calmly smiled at his friend, "So, who is the lucky lady?" he asked.

"Uh.. Gerald, maybe you should take a seat okay?" Arnold suggested.

Gerald raised an eyebrow, taking a seat on the couch, "Why? You're not going to tell me you've decided to date someone completely crazy, like, Patty Smith or something are you?"

"Not ... exactly." Arnold said slowly.

"Good." Gerald said, "Because the only thing crazier than that would be that you suddenly decided Helga Pataki was the love of your life and you wanted to spend the rest of your days with spit balls flying at the back of your head."

"I could definitely live without the spit balls." Arnold agreed.

"... And without Helga Pataki" Gerald coaxed.

Arnold nervously brushed the back of his neck with his hand, not replying to Gerald's statement.

"Arnold, I'm going to ask you a ridiculous question and you're going to tell me I'm wrong okay?" Gerald asked.

"What if you're right?" Arnold inquired.

Gerald lifted his hands to his head and groaned, "If I'm right then just... stay silent, okay?"

"Okay." Arnold agreed.

"Arnold, do you have a crush on Helga Pataki?" Gerald asked tentatively.

He was met with silence, stone cold silence.

"Argh!" Gerald cried out, rolling off the couch in dismay.

"I suppose you're wrong actually Gerald, I don't have a crush on Helga... I love her." Arnold announced.

Gerald simply let his head hit the ground, "Jamie-O was right, the word is going to end this year." he mumbled.


	2. Jungle Surprise

Jungle Surprise  
_(10 years old, TJM)_

Gerald paced around the large jungle tent, backward and forward, backward and forward, past his best friend.

Finally, he broke the silence, "What did I just see?... WHAT on earth did I just see?" he asked.

"Well.." Arnold began, "I was just helping-"

"NO!" Gerald interrupted.

"No?" Arnold asked tentatively.

"Not that excuse again." Gerald warned.

"A different one?" Arnold offered.

"No, I don't want to hear your stories." Gerald grumbled.

Arnold winced, "Would you like... the truth?"

"No." Gerald shook his head, "I cannot handle the truth. I absolutely cannot handle the truth."

"This... never happened?" Arnold suggested.

"Right." Gerald said with a sigh of relief, "Forgetting."

Arnold nodded slowly as Gerald exited.

Helga, who had been sitting by the campfire nearby, was startled as somebody stomped from the tent, "Geraldo? Uh..."

"This never happened." Gerald stated.

Helga stared at him for a moment before eagerly nodding, "Understood."

"Good." Gerald said, tentatively patting the girl on the shoulder, before walking off into the distance.

Helga slowly made her way back into the tent, biting her lip nervously as she entered.

"That was..." Arnold began.

"Awkward." Helga concluded.

Arnold smiled at her, and in no time, they had resumed their previous activity.


	3. Phoebe's Diagnosis

Phoebe's Diagnosis  
(_10 years old, post-TJM_)

Helga was three lines deep in a melodramatic poem about Arnold's kisses when she heard a knock on the front door. Helga frowned, knowing that with Bob at work and Miriam asleep on the couch, she would have to attend to the situation.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Helga assured the visitor as she approached the door.

"Konichiwa Helga." Phoebe said pleasantly as her friend threw open her front door.

"Pheebs?" Helga questioned.

"I am very sorry to bother you, but I had some pressing concerns to discuss with you Helga." Phoebe softly explained.

"Sure thing." Helga replied in confusion, making her way back upstairs to her bedroom with Phoebe following closely behind.

Upon entering the room Phoebe drew a clipboard from her bag, studying it carefully before speaking.

"Helga, although in ordinary circumstances I would never pry into your personal life, I have documented an astounding level of weird behaviours from you in past weeks. I have organised these behaviours in a chart however I have been unable to come to a logical conclusion.." Phoebe explained, "And thus, I must conclude that I am worried about you."

Helga raised her brow at the poor caring friend before her, reaching out to read through the listed 'symptoms' on Phoebe's clipboard.

"Decreased attention span, increased drowsiness, decreased appetite, increased poetic tendencies.." Helga muttered as she read through the list, "Decreased violence, decreased spit balls, increased unexplainable absences."

"I wouldn't like to assume Helga, but I believe you are deathly sick!" Phoebe announced grimly.

Helga smiled, "I'm not sick Pheebs, I'm fine... I'm better than fine!"

"Helga, you may be suffering from delirium..." Phoebe objected.

"I have been worried about that myself." Helga muttered, moving over to Phoebe and placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "I'd love to tell you what's going on... but I can't."

Phoebe reached for her clipboard immediately, jotting down 'increased wanting to tell me what's going on' and 'decreased ability to tell me what's going on'... pausing for a moment she then wrote down, 'increased secrets'.

Phoebe's eyes flicked over the symptoms again, a twinkle appearing in her eyes as she made markings and equations on the page.

"Oh Helga, I cannot believe I did not solve this earlier!" Phoebe rushed.

"Uh, Pheebs I d-" Helga began to say.

"You're not sick at all Helga, you've simply had... too much ice cream!" Phoebe giggled.

Helga's eyes went wide.

"Oh Helga! I'm so happy." Phoebe squealed, "I'm so sorry to bother you, you must have so many poems to write."

Flipping her hand in apology for her interruption, Phoebe did a few quick bounces of joy before running from Helga's room squealing.


	4. Harold Cries Mommy

Harold Cries Mommy  
_(__12 years old_)

Helga looked out over her whispering classmates with a smirk; it wouldn't be long before somebody said something. Arnold sat beside her, doing nothing but eating his lunch. It was a fairly innocent situation, except for the fact that it was _Arnold and Helga _who were sitting together.

Arnold looked up himself to survey the situation, "They all look so confused." he said with a laugh.

"Nobody has said anything." Helga frowned, wondering if she truly had over-exaggerated the potential uproar that would occur if their relationship was public knowledge.

Arnold grinned at her, "That's because they're petrified of you." he reminded her.

"This is it." Helga nudged him, "Here comes Harold, there's no way he'll let this slide."

Harold entered the cafeteria with a bang, pushing kids out the way as he piled food onto his lunch tray and sat down with Sid and Stinky who wasted no time in pointing toward Arnold and Helga and whispering.

Harold immediately forgot his food and quickly gained the entire cafeteria's attention as he walked over to their table.

"Ooohhh how cute Arnold and Helga eating lunch together!" Harold teased.

"Hey Harold." Arnold said coolly.

"Hey _Arnold_." Harold responded sarcastically, "How's your little girlfriend?" he asked, causing a ripple of laughter amongst their classmates.

Arnold shrugged, "I don't know Harold, why don't you ask her yourself." he responded.

The ripple of laughter ceased abruptly.

"Uh, okay." Harold said, scratching his head in slight confusion, "But I'm not going to cause I don't care how she is!" he said huffily.

"Feeling's mutual pink boy." Helga said with a frown.

"Shut up _Helga,_ or I'll start singing songs about you!" Harold threatened.

Helga rolled her eyes, "Let me guess, Arnold and Helga sitting in a tree?" she said crossing her arms.

"No!" Harold lied, as he tried to think of a back-up plan, "Helga and Arnold sitting in a cafeteria..." he began.

Classmates chimed in as he got to the all important part, "K-I-S-S-" was as far as they got before Arnold and Helga leaned over and actually did start kissing.

"Oh my god!" Rhonda shrieked.

"Bold kid." Gerald, who had already known, muttered.

Harold stood frozen for a moment before letting out a panicked scream and running toward the hallway yelling "Mommy!".


	5. Leaving Evidence

Leaving Evidence  
(_16 years old_)

Arnold lifted his team shirt over his head, tossing it to the side and rummaging through his duffel bag to find his clean plaid shirt.

"Woah!" Gerald's voice cried out from beside him in the locker room.

Arnold turned to face his best friend, and team mate, "What?" he asked.

"What the heck happened to you?" Gerald asked, his jaw hanging open.

"Gerald, what are you talking about?" Arnold said, eyeing him with concern.

"Your back!" Gerald cried, pulling him over to the nearby mirror, motioning for him to take a look.

Arnold's face dropped as his eyes fell upon the large scratches up his back, trailing from his shoulder blades down to his waist.

"Oh wow..." Arnold muttered, a small smile creeping to his face as he realised what, or rather _who_, had caused them.

"Did a wild beast attack you or something man?" Gerald said sarcastically, eyeing his friend suspiciously.

"Something like that." Arnold smirked, moving back toward his bag, hoping to quickly get a shirt on.

"That's nasty!" Harold Berman's voice echoed, as he entered the change rooms with Sid and Curly.

"Boy howdy!" Sid said in agreement.

Gerald shook his head, "Spill the beans man."

"There's nothing to spill, Gerald." Arnold insisted.

"Arnold, you came back after five years in the jungle without so much as a bruise, now you've got crazy claw marks up your back." Gerald glared.

"Yeah, either you had crazy kinky sex with someone... or Helga Pataki finally decided to maim you for having a football-shaped head." Sid said, staring thoughtfully at the deep scratches, as though he was trying to determine if they had been caused by anger or passion.

"Or..." Curly said, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, "... he had crazy kinky sex _with _Helga Pataki."

Curly's comment caused all out laughter amongst the guys, excluding Arnold who simply watched them.

"Oh man, that's hilarious Curly." Gerald chuckled, "Arnold, why aren't you... Arnold, I don't like that look in your eyes man..."

"What look?" Arnold asked, distracting himself by pulling on his plaid shirt and beginning to button it up.

"That guilty look! Oh god, you did, didn't you?" Gerald gasped.

"Oh, he so did!" Harold said, pointing to the obvious blush present on Arnold's face.

"Details!" Curly demanded, looking expectantly toward him.

"Did the scratches happen during or after... or before?" Gerald raised an eyebrow.

"I bet that was one heck of an experience.." Sid mused, "I bet she's violent."

"I always thought she'd be crazy in bed!" Harold concurred.

"I can't believe you're still _alive_!" Gerald said with amazement.

"Guys!" Arnold said firmly, "Can you please stop talking about my girlfriend like that!"

Gerald's jaw practically hit the floor, "Your _girlfriend_?!"

Arnold sighed, "Yeah, but keep it to yourselves okay? Nobody's supposed to know."

"How long?" Curly questioned.

"Four months." Arnold mumbled, awaiting the inevitable reaction.

"Four months!" Gerald, Harold, Sid and Curly cried in unison.

"Dude, you've only been _back _for four months." Gerald reminded him.

"Oh, yeah, well, did I mention.." Arnold began, quickly throwing his bag over his shoulder, ".. that I've been in love with her since we were nine? No? Forgot to tell you? Oh well. Bye!" he said hurriedly, as he bolted out the change rooms.

"I think I need to sit down." Gerald mumbled, slumping onto the wooden bench beneath him as the door slammed shut behind his best friend.


	6. Sweet Violence

Sweet Violence  
_(13 years old)_

Gerald leant against the closed door of the Janitor's closet and heaved a heavy sigh of relief whilst his classmates stood around with similar looks of liberation. Gerald winced a little as he heard a distinct clunking sound from within the cramped closet, followed by the unmistakable words, _"I'm going to kill you, Football Head!"_ escaping Helga's lips.

Stinky shook his head sadly, "She's gonna break him inta tiny pieces." he concluded, as another loud thunk echoed into the hallway.

Arnold and Helga had _never _really seemed to get along, although in initial years most of the 'not getting along' seemed to stem from Helga's side of the relationship. During their younger years Arnold always remained true to his good-natured ways and simply tolerated her continual insults, and any mutual disagreements were often short-lived. That was, until Arnold snapped, nobody could remember quite _when _ it all began for sure, but it was sometime after saving the neighbourhood and possibly started when he threw her into the pool on April Fool's Day. Nonetheless – Arnold had started fighting _back_.

"I'm backing Arnold." Sid said confidently, motioning toward the 'scene of the crime'.

Harold scoffed, "No way _Arnold _could beat Helga!"

Ever since then they had developed somewhat of a pattern – at least once or twice a week Helga would push him too far and Arnold would lose his cool with her. Screaming, and sometimes flying objects, often ensued and the only thing people could do was stand back and wait for Arnold's anger to dissipate (because Helga's never seemed to).

"I'm ever so certain they will work it out." Lila said optimistically, a serene smile on her face.

Rhonda looked her up and down in shock, "Lila, I hardly th-" she began, only to be interrupted by the sound of an object shattering inside the closet space.

Lately, maybe for the last four months or so, it had become _even worse_. In fact, it seemed like they argued for the sake of arguing – it almost felt theatrical. They would fight over anything and everything, it was always loud and something always got broken. Mr Simmons had taken to simply covering his ears and running from the classroom whenever a disagreement erupted. Classmates had taken to drastic measures such as this, locking the two in the Janitor's Closet, simply to drown out a little of the noise.

Arnold and Helga's classmates stood silently in the hallway, waiting for the aftermath of the loud shattering noise they had heard just moments before. Typically, the breakage of items was Helga's doing, and was followed by a stern warning from Arnold about being more careful, which in turn was often met with Helga deliberately breaking something else, just to spite him

Gerald had been particularly intrigued by the recent increase of verbal assault between his best friend and his best friends bully. Their fights were... _strange_, to say the least, and the few times Gerald cared to pay attention to the actual words they were screaming, he noticed that some things didn't quite add up. For example, just five minutes ago Helga had become irritated by a question Arnold had _dared _to ask her, and she had said precisely this – _"I told you that yesterday, you idiot!"_. Which wasn't such an interesting fact until Gerald considered that yesterday was Sunday. Why would they have seen each other on Sunday?

Phoebe crept forward a little, placing her ear to the wooden door of the Janitor's Closet, "It's gone quiet..." she almost whispered.

Gerald nodded, his body still slumped against the green door, "I can't hear them fighting anymore."

"I guess that mean she done killed him." Stinky said remorsefully

Rhonda raised her eyebrows slowly, "Open the door?" she suggested, eager to inspect the damage left in the wake of yet another violent Helga vs. Arnold outburst.

Gerald scrunched his face a little, unsure as to whether he truly _wanted_ to seewhat was going on, but reluctantly he reached forward toward the handle and pushed the closet door wide open.

Gerald's face dropped, his entire mind reeling, of all the things he had ever expected to see upon opening that door – this was not one of them. Not at all. Not even a little bit.

Rhonda's hands flew to cover her mouth as she gasped, "Oh my..." she breathed, "...god. Oh my god!"

"Oh no!" Phoebe said softly, her eyes displaying clear panic as she stepped backward a little.

Sid, was standing stock still, his eyes wide in surprise, "I don't think thirteen year olds are supposed to kiss like... that..." he winced, his focus locked on the two blondes currently rolling around on the floor of the Janitor's Closet.

Stinky raised an eyebrow, "I think you're supposed ta be _married _before you kiss like that." he agreed, scratching his skull in slight confusion over the sight before his eyes.

"Oh... I can't watch this anymore!" Harold whined, his hands hovering near his eyes hesitantly, as though he truly _wanted _to place them over his eyes and shield his vision, but couldn't bring himself to do it.

Gerald cleared his throat, "They why don't you look away, Harold?" he suggested plainly, despite the fact that he himself was having trouble tearing his eyes from the particularly vivid display.

"Why don't _you_?" Harold shot back, prompting no further response from Gerald, as he didn't exactly have an answer to that question at the current time.

Rhonda took a deep breath, "It's just so..." she began, cocking her head to the side in concentration as she tried to search for the correct word to describe what she was currently witness to.

"Disgusting?" Sid offered.

"Horrifying..." Gerald cringed.

"Weird." Rhonda finally decided.

Lila tugged nervously at her long braid, "I'm ever so certain I cannot stop staring." she admitted, much to the relief of the six other people around her who felt very much the same way.

Rhonda grimaced a little, "I can't stop either." she confessed.

"I don't think they've noticed we're here..." Phoebe suddenly remarked, quickly bringing her mind and hopefully the other's minds, back onto the most important _repercussion _of their stunning discovery.

Gerald's eyes shot wide open, immediately understanding Phoebe's subtle hint, "We need to close this door before Helga rips out organs out!" he hissed, as quietly as possible, now increasingly concerned about the level of their voices and, thus, their chances of being caught gawking.

Rhonda nodded, slowly and almost a little hesitantly, "We should, we..." she began, but quickly lost her train of thought as her eyes processed the sudden change in activity within the closet, "Oh! I'm gonna be sick!"

Gerald spluttered for a moment, "I cannot _believe _she is doing that to my best friend!" he cried out helplessly.

"He doesn't seem to be complaining." Phoebe pointed out as politely as she could.

Lila squinted, "No, actually, I'm ever so certain he's... Oh gosh!" she squealed out, immediately gaining the motivation to cover her poor eyes with her hands.

"Close the door!" Sid yelped desperately, his eyes firmly closed shut.

Needing no more incentive, and certainly not willing to witness anymore of this _affectionate _display, Gerald grabbed for the door handle and forcefully pulled it shut.

Gerald's eyes wandered over the group of friends before him, some still with their hands, or arms, placed tightly over their eyes, "Are we all in agreement..." he began slowly, "That we don't say a _word _about this?"

Phoebe stepped forward at this suggestion, "Agreed!" she confirmed, almost forcefully, shooting a look toward her fellow classmates, whether they could see it or not.

Murmurs and whispers erupted between the class mates for a few brief moments before everybody began nodding their heads eagerly, "Agreed!" they chorused, before quickly hurrying off in separate directions down the hallways – most in the direction of the bathrooms, to splash a heap of cold water onto their faces and repeat over and over again into the mirror that this had _never ever happened._


	7. Reuniting

Reuniting  
_(28 Years Old)_

Hillwood High School's expansive, and newly renovated, school gymnasium was lit up like a Christmas tree, filled with the chatter of mingling friends underneath the banner that read, 'Class of 2012 - 10 Year Reunion'.

Rhonda Lloyd-Gammelthorpe stood hand-in-hand with her husband, Thaddeus Gammelthorpe, watching their three year old daughter Amelie significantly destroy her perfectly coiffed hair as she tore around the gymnasium causing her unique brand of mayhem. Rhonda wore her long dark hair in a decorative bun, standing in tall black heels and wearing a one-of-a-kind designer red dress that dropped to her knees. Thad, who looked decidedly different from his younger self, was tall and lean, wearing a nicely tailored suit, his dark hair looking very much like it had once been styled nicely and promptly then 'ruined' two moments later.

Lila Sawyer stood beside Rhonda, her auburn hair in the braids she'd worn ever since childhood, her petite frame enhanced with a fitted green skirt and white blouse. She fluttered her eyelashes as she explained politely that she had not yet managed to find her 'oh so special someone', which most took as positive indication that the poor sweet girl _still_ wasn't over Arnie, and had thus come to the event alone.

Phoebe Heyerdahl and Gerald Johanssen stood opposite the Gammelthorpe's, Phoebe happily showing off her sparkling diamond engagement ring, and gushing details about their upcoming summer wedding. Gerald had cut his tall hair down to a more tamable, and employable, length and was wearing a suave looking suit with a bright red shirt on his broad and muscular upper body - something that came from years of professional basketball. Phoebe barely reached his shoulders, despite her tall silver heels, and looked every bit the professional doctor she was in a blue button-up shirt and long black pants.

Harold Berman had meandered over sometime during Amelie Gammelthorpe's second fit of manical laughter, and was currently busy explaining the current status of his and Patty Smith's on-and-off relationship to Stinky Peterson. Harold had chosen a typically casual outfit for the gathering, opting for a simple white shirt and dark blue jeans, which looked fitting on his beefy stature. Stinky Peterson had attended the event with his lanky brunette girlfriend, Jenny, whom he had met over a year ago after moving back to the country to follow in the family farming tradition. Stinky wore a yellow dress shirt and suit pants, looking particularly uncomfortable in the rather dressy attire.

Nadine and Robert Podminecki, better known as Peapod Kid throughout his schooling, were joyfully introducing their two five year old twins Eva and Dean, who had been tightly gripping to their parents legs all evening, and trying to readily encourage the shy duo to mingle with the other children. Nadine had her short blonde hair in tight ringlet curls, dropping only to her shoulders, and was dressed in a modest blue dress that reached her mid-calves. Robert dressed elegantly in a designer grey suit and a heavy, and impressive, long dark coat.

Sid Gifaldi stood nearby the Podminecki's, chatting happily with Brian 'Brainy' Robinson, the two men playfully giving Sid's eleven year-old-son Andy a grilling over his 'little girlfriend' from school. Andy, a charismatic and dark haired boy, had practically been raised by the gang over the years, after Sid's high school girlfriend became pregnant during Sophomore year and then promptly skipped town, leaving young baby Andy fully in Sid's care. Brainy's cheerful and fiery Scottish girlfriend Isla, was laughing happily and defending poor young Andy's honor. Sid wore his customary leather jacket, a fashion trend he never quite moved on from, over slim blue jeans and had cut his thin hair short. Brainy wore a pair of grey suit pants and a thick yellow sweater, his pale hair long and spiky and his glasses now replaced with contact lenses.

Eugene Horowitz and his partner Dave were standing close by, cooing over Sheena's stomach which was currently home to their six-months in progress surrogate child. Sheena's husband Todd stood nearby, holding their two year old daughter Emma in his arms and tickling her whilst she let out shrieks of laughter. Eugene, who was now quite fit and muscular from his days performing on Broadway, wore a bright purple shirt and black pants, topped off with colorful orange and yellow shoes and had cut his curly red hair very short for an upcoming movie role. Sheena was still quite fond of flowers, and wore a floor-length floral dress and a daisy in her long straight brown hair, her tall and slim stature making her baby bump very prominent.

"Oh my god!" Rhonda Lloyd-Gammelthorpe declared as the gymnasium door flew open and a familiar face entered.

Arnold Shortman, dressed in an impressive black suit with a deep green shirt, made his way over toward his primary school friends. His blonde hair was long and unruly as it had always been and his head was still clearly 'football shaped' however, since leaving Hillwood with his parents at age fifteen and his short visit at seventeen, a few things had changed. For one, Arnold no longer lived up to his last name, in fact he was quite tall. He was tanned and muscular from years of living in the San Lorenzo jungle, but, he still had that familiar warm and friendly smile.

Lila immediately rushed toward him, "I'm ever so certain it's wonderful to see you Arnold!" she exclaimed, taking hold of his arm and dragging him over to the group, "It's been ever so many years since you last visited!"

Gerald crossed his arms haughtily, faking annoyance at his best friend, "Yeah, eleven whole years man!" he huffed. Gerald and Phoebe had travelled to see Arnold twice over the years, the most recent being six months ago, and Gerald never missed an opportunity to remind Arnold that he should visit home a little more often.

"Gerald, you know Arnold is very busy in San Lorenzo." Phoebe reminded her fiance, "How was your flight Arnold?"

Arnold let out a frustrated breath of air and rolled his eyes, "Long."

"I must say Arnold," Rhonda began, a curious look crossing her face, "I was fully expecting you to waltz in here with a gorgeous wife on your arm, but it seems you've come alone."

Arnold's face, which had previously looked pained at the memory of his arduous flight, now changed to a familiar dreamy grin, "Actually Rhonda, my gorgeous wife is on her way, with our son." he informed her, looking over his shoulder a little in anticipation for such event.

Rhonda raised an eyebrow, "You have a son?" she asked, knowing that she and the rest of her friends were simply _dying_ to know what Arnold had been up to over the past decade. It was widely known that Gerald and Phoebe had recently visited him, and thus must have met his wife and son, however the pair hadn't been at all forthcoming with information on the subject upon their return to Hillwood.

Harold chuckled a little, "Does your son have a strange shaped head?" he inquired, feeling it was a particularly important question.

"Harold!' Lila gasped, "I'm ever so certain that's rude!"

Arnold simply laughed at the question, thankful to see not much had changed among his friends, "Yes Harold." he confirmed, "He has my head."

Gerald snickered a little beside Arnold, "I'm sure your wife had a thing or two to say about pushing _that_ out." he muttered, knowing full well exactly what colourful words Arnold's wife had chosen to describe the experience of giving birth to a football-headed child.

Arnold shot his best friend a playful glare, as Sid cast his eyes over the large group of old friends that surrounded Arnold, "Looks like the whole gang's here!" Sid declared happily.

"Almost." Phoebe interjected, certain from the looks on people's faces that they knew exactly who she was referring to.

Rhonda was the first to make comment on the situation, "Oh Phoebe, you honestly don't expect Helga to show up do you?" she asked as softly as possible, "None of us have seen her since college..."

Phoebe smiled proudly, knowing her best friend should be arriving any moment, "I'm one hundred perfect certain she will be here." she confidently assured Rhonda.

As if on cue, the doors to the gym flew open once again, this time revealing the tall figure of a curvy blonde woman.

"Woah." Sid mumbled.

Helga stood at the entry of the gymnasium looking like a completely different person. Firstly, her hair was down in soft waves, dropping to her waistline and framing her more mature and softened face. Gone were the baggy t-shirts, loose jeans and tatty sneakers of high-school-Helga, instead she wore a figure enhancing pink dress that stopped mid-thigh, graciously showing off her long lean legs in tall white heels. Lastly, she was smiling, a genuine loving smile down at the small adorable child cradled in her arms.

"Helga!" Phoebe cried out, rushing to greet her best friend, and her gorgeous godson, "Hello little Phillip." she cooed to the little bundle of joy.

Rhonda stared intently at the sight before her for a few moments, before curiously noting a certain interesting detail, "Is it just me or does that child have a strangely shaped head?" she muttered.

"I'm ever so sure he definitely has Helga's nose..." Lila noted in response, adding another interesting piece of 'evidence' to the budding inquiry.

Sid, deciding he had seen enough, put his theory forward, "I'm just gonna put it out there – that's gotta be Arnold's kid..." he stated.

"Which means that Helga Pataki is..." Rhonda began, only to be suddenly interrupted by Arnold clearing his throat.

"Helga Shortman, actually." He corrected her promptly.

Nobody moved for a good few minutes after this revelation, during which time Helga and Phoebe rejoined the group, Helga and Arnold shared a quick kiss and Helga handed over a giggling Phillip to his father.

"Hey guys, how's tricks?" Helga smiled, finally turning to face the group – only to be met with stupefied stares and absolutely no response to her question.

Phoebe pursed her lips together at the scene, "I think they're experiencing mild shock, Helga." she kindly informed her friend.

Gerald shook his head, "Mild is an understatement." he chuckled, as he waved an experimental hand in the eyes of his old classmates.

"Fantastic!" Thad suddenly blurted out, throwing his hands into the air, "I was worried you two would never realise you were meant to be together!"

Rhonda blinked in confusion at her husband's sudden declaration, "What on earth do you mean?"

"I'm ever so certain that Thaddeus means that Helga and Arnold are just oh too perfect for each other." Lila chirped, an incredible grin now settling on her face.

Nadine stepped forward a little, "Your son is adorable!" she said, looking at the small child in awe.

Helga rolled her eyes a little, "Oh, you think he's adorable? Let me tell you about the time I had to give _birth _to him!" she scoffed, causing Gerald to burst into uncontrollable laugher

"Wait!" Rhonda suddenly protested, "If you two are married, why were we not invited to the wedding?"

Arnold and Helga immediately froze a little at the question, and Arnold rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "Uh, you see, it was a long time ago and... well.."

Sid raised an eyebrow at him, "A long time ago?"

Taking a deep breath, Arnold figured it was finally time to explain, "It happened after I visited over summer break when we were seventeen, Helga came back to San Lorenzo with me after my stay. She was there for two weeks, the first two weeks of Senior year, and well... we got married the day before she came back to Hillwood..."

"...Arnold and I both agreed that I needed to finish my education before I could return to San Lorenzo, so I finished high school and college in America before I went back to live in the jungle." Helga finished for him.

"You didn't see each other for the first four years of your marriage?" Eugene questioned.

Arnold crossed his arms defensively, "We Skyped!"

"I don't reckon I could imagine Helga in the jungle." Stinky mused.

"I don't think I can imagine Helga being married!" Harold piped up.

"For eleven years!" Sid reminded them both.

"To _Arnold_." Stinky continued.

"Wait!" Rhonda cried again, seemingly bothered by something in particular, "You're telling me, that all those times during college that I tried to get back at you for your pranks by telling the Dean ridiculous stories about you, the _real _reason you never got into trouble was because I was reporting Helga _Pataki _and you were Helga Shortman!?"

Helga, looking pleased as punch, began to laugh uncontrollably at the memory, "Yep." she confirmed.

"I can't believe it!" Rhonda shook her head, "I'm so impressed and so mad, all at the same time!" she muttered.

"I would conclude, Phillip, that your parents... and _you_, have been the highlight of the reunion so far." Phoebe said to the cute young boy, who was currently waving his arms about gleefully.

"Cheers to that!" Gerald affirmed, holding his glass high in the air.

Around them, smiling faces of childhood friends raised their glasses to being reunited, and the joy of surprises, "Cheers!" they cried in unison.


	8. Gerald Loves Helga

Gerald Loves Helga  
_(11 years old)_

Gerald Johanssen sat peacefully, and alone, in the school cafeteria thankful that he now _finally_ had the chance to eat his delicious home-made lunch. Not that his conversation with Helga hadn't been important, because it certainly had been, but that girl was taking up far too much of his spare time recently with all her crazy schemes and he just needed a moments rest.

However, it seemed the entirety of their sixth-grade class had other ideas for how Gerald might spend his lunch break today, as they had all approached his table and were looking at him rather expectantly.

"Uh... may I help you?" Gerald offered, a little annoyed by this sudden interruption, seeing as he was only two bites into his delicious sandwich.

Rhonda Wellington Lloyd tapped her foot impatiently, "You certainly _can, _Gerald." she informed him bluntly, looking at this moment somewhat like a vulture going for its prey.

"So, Gerald..." Sid began smoothly, sliding into the seat next to him, "Saw you talking to Helga before."

Gerald paled a little, it seemed the inevitable had come – people were getting _suspicious_, "Yeah? And?" he countered, hoping to sound fairly nonchalant about the situation.

"You two sure have been gettin' along much nicer these past few months n' all." Stinky observed loudly, as though he was _trying_ to round up the attention of the entire cafeteria.

Gerald shrugged, "Helga's pretty cool actually, once you get to know her." at this comment he received a multitude of stupefied stares from his classmates, and he rolled his eyes at them, "Hey, it surprised me too."

"Oh Gerald, _please_..." Rhonda scoffed, "don't think we don't realise what's going on."

Gerald silently cursed to himself, he wasn't quite sure how to proceed from here, he was certain that coming out an confessing everything to the '_Princess_' would earn him a verbal assault from Helga later on. 'Nice Helga' or not, she could still be pretty terrifying.

"Okay..." he began slowly, picking his words carefully, "Listen, Helga's not going to be happy if y-"

"Awww, look at _that_ he's all concerned about Helga's _feelings_!" Harold chimed in, finishing off his little insult with that childish laugh of his.

Gerald glared at Harold, "Not just _Helga's_." he said firmly, hoping to remind his friends that some common decency could stand to be used in this situation.

Unfortunately, this only seemed to make the situation worse, as some of them were now openly snickering.

"Oh my!" Rhonda shrieked, "It's _true_, isn't it?"

Gerald winced, he supposed this was it, "What's true?"

Rhonda grinned, she looked like a Cheshire Cat, "You.." she began dramatically, pointing her manicured finger at Gerald, "are in love with Helga Pataki!"

Rhonda's 'conclusion' elicited several fits of laughter around the room and caused Gerald's jaw to drop, further than he imagined his jaw ever _could _drop.

"Rhonda!" he exclaimed, "I am n-"

"Gerald and _Helga_ sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" Harold, as usual, began to belt out at the very top of his lungs.

"Harold!" Gerald hissed, becoming more than a little stressed out by this situation, "_Stop_ singing that, especially before Helga comes in here and hears you."

"Ain't ya told her yet, Gerald?" Stinky enquired.

Gerald groaned a little, "No! I-... Ugh, guys, no! I do not love Helga!"

"Oh sure you don't" Rhonda laughed, "I don't see what else could _possibly _explain your sudden little 'friendship'."

At that moment, the cafeteria doors swung open a little and in walked Arnold, who looked tired to say the least. He was looking rather dishevelled, an appearance Gerald could only assume Arnold had 'acquired' within the confines of a Janitor's Closet sometime within the last ten minutes.

Gerald, who was now in far too much of a panic to properly use his secret-keeping-mental-filtering system, immediately stood to his feet and pointed toward his best friend, "You!" he huffed loudly, "This is all _your _fault!"

Having absolutely no idea why his best friend was condemning him, nor why a large group of their classmates was huddled around him, Arnold simply stared at Gerald with quite a large amount of shock evident on his face and simply responded, "Huh?"

"I am going to kill you and Helga for this!" Gerald cried out, and immediately realised he had just dug the three of them, four if Phoebe was to show up at all, a very large hole and jumped _right on in_.

"Wait!" Rhonda suddenly exclaimed, now _very_ interested in the blonde haired boy by the doorway, "What does Arnoldhave to do with this?"

Stinky stepped forward at that moment, "I guess Gerald done told Arnold all about them feelings he's been having for Miss Helga, and Arnold was supposed ta keep it a secret."

Arnold was now _certainly _paying full attention, "What!" he practically shouted, looking at Gerald in absolute confusion.

Gerald sighed a little, "They all think I'm in love with Helga." he explained.

For the first few moments, Arnold simply stood wide eyed making no noise, but after having time to fully process why and how his classmates may have come to that conclusion the young blonde boy practically exploded with laughter.

Sid frowned at this display, "Something funny is going on here."

"Gerald!" came the shout of a very familiar voice from just outside the doorway, "I _need _to talk to you about..." and then Helga's words tapered off a little, as she had just entered the cafeteria and realised that practically everybody she knew was standing in there and now staring directly at her, "Uh... hey losers, what's up?"

Rhonda smirked, "Oh, nothing Helga, we were just discussing how Gerald is in love with you."

"_Tall hair boy_?" Helga questioned, trying to hold back her giggles, "Sheesh, you must be outta _real _gossip Princess." and with that, she succumbed to her own laughing fit.

Stinky shook his head at her, "Aw, now don't go breakin' the boys heart." he warned her very seriously.

"Guys!" Gerald shouted, now thumping his fist against the table to recapture everybody's attention, "I do _not _love Helga!"

Rhonda, who had only just turned to face him again, rolled her eyes, "Then how do you explain all these secret little meetings you've been having with her?"

Frustration now at an all time high, Gerald simply shot back the most appropriately sarcastic response he could think of, "Secret meetings? _I'm _not the one who's been having '_secret little meetings'_ with Helga Pataki... Trust me!"

Helga now placed her hands firmly on her hips and scowled directly in Gerald's direction, hoping that possibly looks _could_ and would kill, "Uh, gee thanks Geraldo." she hissed, "Why don't you just spell it out for them?"

Gerald did feel a little remorseful for his particularly revealing comment, especially considering the heart attack Helga was probably about to have and the distinct awkward blush on his best friends face. Wondering how he could possibly get everybody out of this mess unscathed, his thoughts were interrupted by yet another person entering the cafeteria.

Phoebe had a determined look on her face as she strode into the cafeteria, but her mission of locating Helga was cut shorter than anticipated when Helga turned out to be standing just inside the doorway.

"Criminy, Phoebe!" Helga said with an exasperated sigh, "This is _not _your best timing."

Phoebe was now a little concerned, considering Helga's words and also the simple fact that the cafeteria was eerily quiet and Gerald looked particularly stressed. "What seems to be the matter, Helga?" she asked quietly and calmly.

Helga's response was cut off by the impatient tone of Rhonda's voice, who now had her arms firmly crossed over her chest and was tapping her foot expectantly once again, "Yes Helga, please _do _tell us what exactly is the matter here?"

"Oh dear Helga..." Phoebe began nervously, flicking her eyes around the group of her very unimpressed peers, "are they suspicious about...?"

"Mhmmm..." Helga responded, her lips pursed tight in frustration and her head only giving a slight nod to in fact confirm Phoebe's question.

Considering her role as best friend and 'right-hand-woman' in this current sticky situation, Phoebe very nervously thought it may be best to deflect the attention away from Helga with a simple and strong denial of everybody's suspicious. Thus, the words that shakily exited her mouth went a little something like this... "Uh... Nothing's going on with Arnold and Helga!"

Helga _immediately_ dropped her head into her hands and groaned, letting poor Phoebe know that her choice of words was more than unsatisfactory, even Gerald stared at her like she had completely lost it.

"Phoebe." Helga began in a _scarily_ calm voice, "You're my best friend and you're very smart, but... you _cannot_ handle pressure situations!"

Phoebe was about to apologise profusely to Helga, when she was cut off by the sudden chatter of their fellow students, who had finally had a moment fully process Phoebe's little contribution.

"_Arnold..._" Rhonda began, in bewilderment, "and... _Helga_?"

Harold simply removed his blue cap and scratched his oddly shaped head, "I don't get it..." he muttered loudly.

Sid, now believing he fully understood the situation, leapt forward with a gleam in his eyes and proclaimed, "Arnold loves Helga!" at the top of his lungs.

"_No_." Rhonda scolded, "Helga loves Arnold."

Sid huffed a little, "Oh yeah? What makes you think that?" he challenged her.

Rhonda rolled her eyes at the boy, "Uh, because she's _always_ throwing spit-balls at him!" she clarified, as though it were simply obvious.

Stinky frowned at this, "That don't make much sense."

"_Yes_ it does." Rhonda insisted, "It means she likes him!"

Sid, however, was certainly still not convinced by Rhonda's argument, "Nah, no way." he argued, "Helga's too mean to love somebody! I say it's Arnold – you _know_ how he gets about girls..."

Stinky nodded at this observation, "Yeah, one's that don't love him back!" he added for emphasis.

"See?" Sid pushed, "Helga's a perfect fit."

Over to the side of Sid and Rhonda, Harold had _finally_ caught on to the direction of the conversation and had picked up enough information to begin his favourite song once more, "Arnold and Helga, sittin' in a tree, K-I-"

"_Excuse _me." came a forceful voice, which stopped Harold mid-song, mainly because of _who _had just spoken in such an uncharacteristically loud way, "I'm ever so certain," Lila began, her voice now back to its normal pitch, "that they love _each other_ and that it would be oh so rude of you to continue teasing them."

Helga, who had become considerably closer with her 'moral enemy' over the past year or so, officially decided in that moment to stop calling Lila 'Little Miss Perfect' all together and also to send her a gift basket and a _huge_ thank you card tomorrow.

Arnold, after having been quiet for quite some time, now stepped forward "Lila's right guys," he informed them sternly, "you're all being immature."

"_Harold.._" Helga now piped up, a _very_ deep scowl etched on her face, "if you _ever_ sing that song again..." she warned, pushing her fist into her other hand to demonstrate _just_ what she meant by her threat.

Seeming to understand, and fear this, very well Harold simply muttered "Madam Fortress Mommy." very lightly under his breath and took a big step backward, back over toward his table and his lunch.

Phoebe now had the chance to turn to her poor best friend and apologise, "I'm very sorry Helga."

Helga, despite feeling very emotionally tired after these shenanigans, smiled warmly at her best friend and gave a little shrug, "Eh, it's not so bad, at least now I can do this." and with that she picked up Arnold's hand in hers, turned to him and said, "Come on Football Head, let's get some lunch!"

Arnold however, quickly dropped her hand and moved his arm around her waist instead, "Whatever you say, Helga." he said with a lovesick smile as they headed off to enjoy their meals.

"Well I never." Rhonda muttered a little as she watched them leave.

Sid cocked his head a little, inspected them for a moment, and then turned back to Rhonda and Stinky, "They look pretty good together." he decided.

"Yeah..." Rhonda said honestly, "They really do."


	9. Super Special Students

Super Special Students  
_(10 years old)_

Mr Simmons set down his red marking pen and peered intently at the big 'A+' he had just marked on one of his students very _special _poetry assignments. Arnold Shortman may have been a very attentive and reliable student, however, his teacher had never really been able to grant him any such outstanding grade for his poetry. Arnold was far too logical and straight-forward, more suited to Science and Maths, and his poetry had always been particularly _bland_ to say the least.

Nonetheless, Robert Simmons was not one for prying, so he resolved that the inspiration for Arnold's markedly better poetic assignment would possibly forever remain a mystery. Although admittedly, it would have been nice to know, especially as he doubted Arnold could have managed such a feat without skilled guidance.

Considering he had been staring at the long, and very touching, poem for quite some time now, Mr Simmons simply placed it into his 'marked' stack and moved on to the next. The next being Harold Berman's latest submission, yet another poem dedicated to the wonders of eating and tasty food. After six or so lines that began with '_food is yummy, in my tummy_' and continued on much to the same effect, he drew out his red pen again and marked a large 'C+'.

Once Harold's _special_ poem was safely transferred onto the pile of marked papers, the teacher reached over again to the 'to-do' pile and realised he was now at the very last poetry assignment. Mr Simmons _always_ marked Helga Pataki's poetry assignments last, it was no secret that he _thoroughly _enjoyed the works of the class 'anonymous' poet and he found picking up her latest masterpiece to be refreshing after a long hard day of marking work.

Helga had a distinctive style, a very passionately imaginative approach to imagery and sometimes the slightest hints of regret. However, despite her characteristically outlandish methods, no two poems ever seemed quite the same. Unlike Rhonda's fashion poems, which were practically the same from week to week, and Harold's food poems which literally _were _the same, just with the lines switched around.

The fifth grade teacher had only read the very first two lines of Helga's poem before he stopped completely, shook his head, and forced himself to read again from the start. Still, even on second inspection, the lines held their meaning. So, painfully slowly, he read and re-read every single line of Miss Pataki's latest work with a thoroughly confused expression.

_Never_, that he had known of, had the so-called 'horror of the fifth grade' written such an inspiring piece. The poem he held in his hand was uplifting and celebratory, in fact, it made him want to sit in a bed of daises or hug a fluffy teddy bear. It displayed a sensitive joyfulness that even Mr Simmons himself found it hard to picture Helga possessing.

Quickly reaching for his stack of papers, Mr Simmons gathered Arnold's poem and placed it side by side with Helga's, and that was when he figured it out. He knew _exactly _what was going on.


	10. Sexual Education

Sexual Education  
_15 Years Old_

Gerald groaned a little as he reached forward to push open the door to Classroom 5B, his best friend Arnold following closely behind with a similarly unimpressed look on his face.

"I cannot believe we have to do this." Gerald whined, for what seemed like possibly the thousandth time since the announcement that morning, "I do _not _need sexual education."

Arnold chuckled a little at his best friend, the self-proclaimed 'lady killer' of their grade, "I'm surprised they didn't ask you to teach the class." he joked.

"Dude." Gerald said, a very serious look now coming to his features, "Not funny."

Arnold shrugged and laid his books down on a nearby table, Gerald quickly took the one to his left hand side, and they settled down into their seats. Gerald peered around the room, taking in the surrounding students, his eyes coming to rest on the person who had taken the seat on Arnold's right hand side.

"Hey Arnold..." Gerald said in a hushed tone, leaning closer to his friend and pointing over toward Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, "I bet _she _knows all about this stuff."

Arnold frowned at his friend, "Gerald, I don't think you should be speculating about our classmates..." he warned.

"Oh, come on Arnold!" Gerald scoffed, rolling his eyes, "It's a fun game to play."

"What?" Arnold raised an eyebrow at him, "The 'guess who's had sex' game?"

Gerald nodded, "Seriously man, it's fun, just play the game with me!" he encouraged, his sighs now set on another familiar face across the classroom, "For example, look over there Harold Berman, I bet he hasn't."

Arnold shrugged, "Why do you say that?"

"Come on, he's the size of a house... chicks don't dig fat dudes!" Gerald explained.

Arnold stifled a laugh, "Okay, I suppose you're right..."

Turning his attention back to the room of their, slightly awkward looking peers, his eyes rested on Sid Gifaldi, "I'm going to go with a yes for Sid, he's lookin pretty relaxed in here..."

Arnold shifted a little in his seat to look at their childhood friend, who did seem rather nonchalant as he twiddled a pencil in his hands at his desk, "Yeah, I think you could be right." he decided.

"Oh!" Gerald said, his eyes lighting up a little, "What about Lila?"

Arnold rolled his eyes at Gerald, "Yeah right." he scoffed.

Gerald shook his head a little, "I don't know man, it's always the quiet ones..." he mused, now looking at Lila with great interest, as though he was trying to read her mind.

Arnold chuckled a little and tapped Gerald on the shoulder, pointing toward the doorway, "Quiet ones like _that_?" he teased, motioning in the direction of Phoebe Heyerdahl who had just entered the room.

Gerald's eyes bugged wide open for a minute, his usually calm demeanour faltering as he watched the petite Japanese girl walk through the doorway, "Uh... I hope so?" he said with a nervous smile.

"So, what do you think? Phoebe yes or no?" Arnold pushed, seeing his chance for a little revenge on Gerald for making him play this ridiculous game in the first place.

"No!" Gerald cried out, a little loudly, attracting some attention, "No way Arnold, she would not have done it."

Arnold grinned a little, "You know, you could just ask her out already?"

Gerald gave him a playful punch in the arm, and averted his eyes, "Leave it alone man, besides, we're playing a guessing game here and there's one person we haven't got to yet." he continued, pointing to the tall blonde girl standing at Phoebe's side, "Helga Pataki, I'm torn on this one... On one hand she's grown up to be damn hot... but on the other hand I think she'd sock anybody who even _tried_."

Arnold shifted uncomfortably in his seat and twiddled his thumbs, "Uh, so what one do you pick then?"

"Hmmm..." Gerald thought, "I say she hasn't."

Arnold saw out the corner of his eye that the school nurse was about to enter the room to begin their lesson, so with only a moments hesitation, he turned to Gerald with a smile and said, "I say she has."

Gerald rolled his eyes, "Yeah right, and what do you base that on?"

Arnold shrugged casually, "I was there."

Gerald stared at his friend, his face unmoving, trying to process the comment, "You were _there_? Where? Why would you have been... Wait, are you saying tha-"

"Good morning class, and welcome to Sexual Education, my name is Nurse Parker and I will be your guide down the path of self-discovery." their strange, and slightly creepy, teacher began... effectively cutting Gerald off from his all important question.

Gerald simply looked from his friend, to Helga Pataki, and back again and _didn't _fail to notice the tell-tale look on his best friends face. '_Oh_', Gerald thought as he tried to come to terms with reality - he had _so many _questions to ask Arnold at lunch.


	11. Upsetting 'Mrs Gammelthorpe'

Upsetting 'Mrs. Gammelthorpe'  
_16 Years Old_

Arnold Shortman slowly meandered his way through the Boarding House, his full attention focussed on the mind-boggling maths assignment currently clutched in his hands. On pure instinct, his hand pushed forward as he reached the doorway of his bedroom, and the teenage boy moved inside, intending to slump onto his bed.

"Arnold!" shouted a shrill high-pitched voice, immediately jolting him from his thoughts about logarithms and exponentials, and forcing him to whip his head toward the direction of his couch.

Rhonda Wellington Lloyd sat on the plush red sofa, a desperate look in her dark eyes, holding a small folded piece of paper.

Arnold stared at her for a moment, attempting to regain his bearings, "Rhonda?"

"Arnold." she began levelly, thrusting the piece of paper into his line of sight, "It's _haunting _me!"

Arnold, though still rather unsure how Rhonda had even managed to enter his bedroom, calmly stepped forward to peer at the small folded object. It looked oddly familiar, and was covered in names of their classmates, but Arnold couldn't quite place where he had seen it before.

Rhonda wasted no time in waiting for his response, "Arnold, we're the only ones left!" she cried out helplessly, now standing to pace backward and forward.

"Only ones of what, Rhonda?" he asked, settling himself down onto his comfortable mattress and watching the raven-haired 'Queen of Gossip' continue her frenzied movements.

"First, it was Phoebe and Gerald..." she began, shooting him a concerned look, "I mean, marriage predictor or not – we _all _saw that coming."

Arnold suddenly realised what the small folded paper object Rhonda had clutched in her perfectly manicured hands actually _was_ – her fourth grade origami marriage predictor.

"But _then_..." Rhonda continued, the pitch of her voice raising higher by the second, "... last year Nadine and Peapod started dating and I started to get _worried_!"

Arnold sighed, he wasn't even sure _what_ she was getting so stressed over, "Rhonda, whatever you're worried about – I'm sure it's nothing." he assured her in his usual helpful tone of voice.

"Nothing?" she practically screamed, "Oh no, it's not _nothing_... because do you know what I found out today?"

Arnold gulped, surely she couldn't possibly be here about...

"Eugene and Sheena!" Rhonda exclaimed, continuing her tirade without bothering to notice Arnold's suspicious reaction to her previous enquiry.

Arnold let out a quick breath, happy that she was simply referring to Eugene and Sheena's new found relationship.

Rhonda, however, seemed utterly horrified by this union, "Eugene!" she stated again, moving closer to Arnold's location, "I thought for sure that would _never _happen, I mean, surely the boy is gay, right?" she huffed, "Apparently not! And that only leaves _two _couples!"

Rubbing his fingertips over his temples lightly, mainly to ease the increasing headache from Rhonda's constant shouting, Arnold shot her a quizzical look, "Two?" as far as he knew the only remaining couple from Rhonda's fourth grade marriage predictor was, well, him and Helga...

Rhonda, who now practically stood over him, her arms crossed firmly over her chest, rolled her eyes, "Arnold, honestly, stay with me here." she whined, "Yes, _two_. Your result and... _my _result!"

"I didn't know you even did the test on yourself Rhonda..." Arnold commented honestly, he clearly remembered her practically forcing others to take the test but never her taking it herself.

"Yes, well there's a good reason nobody knew!" she informed him, taking his shirt collar in her hands and grasping it tightly, "I got Curly, Arnold... _Curly!_" she hissed, "All two hundred and forty times."

Arnold bit back a chuckle, "That's... ah, interesting?" he offered.

Surprisingly, she didn't rip his eyes for the comment, and she even dropped her hold on his collar, "Arnold, we _need _to stick together." she urged him, as she resumed her frantic pacing, "This _thing_ is some kind of voodoo!"

Feeling a little curious, Arnold asked, "Rhonda, is that why you told everyone it wasn't accurate... because it said you were going to marry Curly?"

Rhonda looked up at him for a moment, "Yes!" she frowned, as though he should have already known, "Of course, I mean, it's completely ridiculous to think I would _ever _love that creep... so it _must _ have been wrong!"

Arnold sighed a little, he really did need to get back to that mathematics homework, "If you know it's wrong, then why are you so worried?" he asked her calmly.

"_Because,_ look at everyone else Arnold!" she bellowed, throwing her hands into the air, "You're my last hope!" taking a few deep breaths, she continued, "At least I _know_ that you and Helga absolutely hate each other and would _never ever_..."

Rhonda's train of thought dwindled down to nothing as a flash of pink and blonde dropped from the skylight entrance to Arnold's room and down onto his bed. Helga, taking no note of the fact that Arnold currently had company, wrapped her arms around him from behind as she landed.

"Heya Football head, I wa-" she began, but was suddenly distracted by the sound of a small gasp across the room, "_Princess_?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at the sight of their long-time friend.

Unfortunately, Rhonda was in no state of mind to currently handle the devastating reality that had just been revealed to her and promptly passed out on Arnold's bedroom floor.

Helga glanced from Rhonda and back over to her now not-so-secret-boyfriend a few times before finally asking, "What's up with her?"

Arnold laughed, "Oh, I think she just realised she's going to marry Curly."


	12. Good Advice?

Good Adivce?  
_(16 Years Old)_

"Gerald..."

Sixteen year old Gerald Johanssen peered up from his History workbook, and raised an eyebrow at the tone his best friend had just used to address him.

"Yeah?" he responded casually, hoping this may at last be the juncture of the afternoon where Arnold _finally_ informed him about whatever had been on his mind ever since this morning. No doubt it was interesting, because Arnold hadn't been able to concentrate _all day_.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Gerald nodded, "Sure, go right ahead."

"Okay, I'm only asking you this because, if your answer is _yes_, then I need some advice..." Arnold explained slowly, tapping his pencil restlessly against his knee.

Gerald frowned at _that_, "Aren't you normally the advice-giver?"

"I can't give _myself_ advice." Arnold reminded him.

Gerald shrugged, "Why not?"

"Because..." Arnold droned almost painfully, his eyes averted to the floor, "I've never exactly been in this situation before..."

"Don't you normally ask Phil for advice?" Gerald mused out loud, knowing very well that Arnold's grandfather was always willing to dish out an opinion, even if it _was_ usually a lecture about raspberries.

Arnold, however, looked _horrified_ by the prospect, "I can't ask Grandpa about this!"

"Right..." Gerald agreed, with great confusion, "Why not?"

Arnold didn't respond for a moment, just kept _tapping _that pencil incessantly and gluing his eyes to the ground. Gerald was about to speak up again when Arnold finally, his cheeks flushed, asked, "Have you and Phoebe ever... "

"Ever...?" Gerald repeated in the same tone, trailing off a little until a realisation of the subject finally hit him, "Oh... _that_."

"I mean, you've been together a long time and not that I'm _assuming _anything but-"

Gerald laughed, Arnold looked _so_ uncomfortable having this conversation, "Yes." he interrupted him, "The answer is yes... but, uh, _why_ do you want to know?"

Anybody not privy to the conversation, or properly familiar with Arnold's super-gentlemanly tendencies, would have honestly assumed that the poor teenager had a fever by this point. "I... I... need advice..." he managed to remind Gerald, in a rather hushed tone.

"Woah!" Gerald was _fully_ comprehending what was going on now, and to say he was stunned was an understatement, after all, he had no idea Arnold was even seeing anybody... "It's... pretty self explanatory, I mean, you were there for sex ed last year..."

Arnold groaned, "Yes, I fully grasp the concept of using protection and how the reproductive system works."

Gerald grinned, "Ah, but you wish to know how to please your lady?" he teased with a sultry tone.

"Gerald!" Arnold protested, glaring at him briefly before recalling his bashfulness and finding the floor with his eyes once more, "I just... I don't want to be really bad at it..."

"I'll help." Gerald affirmed, with an unmistakable smirk, "On one simple condition."

Arnold snapped his head up, rather relieved that Gerald was willing to help, "Okay, what's the condition?"

"You tell me who it is you plan on getting lucky with."

Looking rather concerned, Arnold tried his very best to lie, something he was notoriously bad at, "Who says there's a 'who'?" he asked, "I might just be curious."

Gerald scoffed, _nobody_ would have fallen for that, "Nup." he said, "Who?"

"I can't tell you." Arnold insisted, "She'd _kill_ me."

"So, you're telling me, that you want my advice on romancing some girl who would not be opposed to murdering you?"

Arnold nodded, "It's... complicated?"

"Forget it." Gerald shook his head, "No advice until you tell me her name. I mean, I assume I know her?"

Head in hands, and one prolonged groan later, Arnold relented a little, "If I tell you, you'll _seriously_ help me? Like, any and all questions I have?"

Gerald nodded, "I promise you."

"_And_, if I tell you, you will _never_ tell anybody I told you... _especially_ Phoebe."

That halted conversation for a moment, of course Gerald _always_ told Phoebe everything so Arnold had every right to specify that he _not_ inform her, but the 'especially' part was odd, "Why not Phoebe?"

"Because, she'll tell Helga."

"_And?_" Gerald promoted, Helga wasn't _that_ bad these days, so he wasn't quite sure of the problem.

Arnold bit his lip, "Helga is... uh, 'not opposed to murdering me'."

It was rather convenient that Gerald was sitting down because, if he hadn't been, he may have face-planted into the carpet. Shocked... he was shocked, and not just at the fact that Arnold and Helga had some 'thing' going on (whatever it may have been) but also that, after a little consideration, he thought it may actually make _sense_.

"How long?" he did have _lots_ of questions he was dying to ask, but that took precedence for now.

"Months..."

_Months_? Gerald snapped out of his little shocked stupor immediately. Arnold, who could hardly keep secrets (or lie, for that matter) to save his life, had managed to fool him for _months_? Oh no, Gerald would have his revenge.

"Alright, you want my advice..." Gerald reminded him, his voice very calculated as he leant backward and pulled something from under his mattress, "Here's your advice."

Arnold caught the book as Gerald threw it in his direction, and with a great amount of confusion, considering the deceptively plain cover, Arnold asked, "Uh, what is this?"

Gerald shrugged, "Open it."

One page turn, and one quick glance at the words _Kama Sutra_ and Arnold looked so flushed he may as well have been a close relative of the lobster. The book was snapped shut in a hurry "Gerald!" he cried out in distress, his eyes wide, "I can't believe you _own_ this!"

"Actually..." Gerald smirked, "It's not mine..."

Arnold looked at him in disbelief, "Gerald, if it's not yours then wh..." and he trailed off, the conclusion coming not long after, "PHOEBE?"

"Mmmm... it's always the quiet ones." he assured his best friend, mostly to make him even more uncomfortable. Gerald was already looking forward to Arnold acting like an idiot next time he had to look Phoebe in the eye.

For now though, Arnold's mind was still on the book, "I can't read this!"

"Sure you can." Gerald assured him rather casually, "And, considering your choice of company... maybe you should flip straight to part two, chapter eight..."

Arnold raised an eyebrow, "Why?" and curiously, knowing Gerald would not say anything further until he had looked for himself, Arnold flipped to the 'suggested' chapter, "_Oh...not funny_" he grumbled a little, shooting Gerald a rather unappreciative glare.

* * *

**A/N: **_For those wondering Part 2, Chapter 8 is the 'woman on top' section... hehe (at least, it is in the version I Googled)_

_Oh, and next chapter of 'Angela On The Couch' will be posted sometime in the next two days!_


	13. Shiny Silver Surfaces

Shiny Silver Surfaces  
_(22 years old)_

"Food here is so..."

Arnold Shortman looked up and raised an eyebrow at Helga Pataki, who was studying her copy of the restaurant menu with a very serious frown. "Excessive?" he suggested.

Helga bit her lip and tilted her head slightly, "It's like people from Texas have bigger stomachs than us..." she reasoned, tapping her nail against the item labelled _Ribs 'n' Rump, _a large plate of ribs with a side of rump steak, "Do you think it's a genetic mutation?"

"I seriously doubt that, Helga." Arnold chuckled in response, his own eyes landing on the sandwich dubbed the '_Bacon Overload_'.

She crinkled her nose a little, "Eh, I'll ask Geraldo." she decided, "He'll know."

"Yes." Arnold agreed patiently, in his perfected '_whatever you say, Helga_' tone, "But I bet he'll say the exact same thing I did."

Helga dropped her menu and smiled at him with a little twinkle in her eye, "Probably, just to spite me." she joked, and she then proceeded to look around the brightly lit restaurant for the third instance in a very short space of time, "Where _are_ they anyway, isn't this place right near their apartment on campus?"

Arnold nodded, and tapped the screen of his phone, "Phoebe only called two minutes ago." he concluded as he scrolled through his call history, "I'm sure they'll be here soon."

"Ugh, patience is not my forte!" Helga whined loudly tapping her fingers against the silver surface of the table, which was so shiny it was scarily reflective.

Setting his menu down, and trying to avoid the fact that he could see the mirror image of his hair on the tabletop, Arnold met her eyes, "A year ago I might have agreed with you." he conceded with a smile, "But now I know you're lying."

Helga let out a frustrated breath of air, it was still odd each time she realised Arnold knew her better than she sometimes knew herself, "I am _not_ patient." she insisted, disagreeing with him simply for the fun of it had never lost its appeal.

"Liar." Arnold smirked, nudging her leg with his underneath the table, which caught her slightly unaware for a moment, "I've seen you literally watch paint dry."

She shook her head indignantly, "Very different." and she nudged his leg in return, after all, nobody gets the one-up on Helga Pataki, "That was the first wall I'd ever painted... _ever_. It was special."

Arnold raised an eyebrow, but didn't push it any further, and she _had_ done a brilliant job, "The kitchen thanks you." he informed her.

"My pleasure." she said casually, waving a hand to signal it was no big deal, "The owner of the kitchen is pretty cute, so..." and she flashed him that impish smile, he'd so often mistaken as being snide in the past.

He shook his head, "Sorry, the owner of the kitchen has a fiancé." he said in mock sadness, with a little shrug of his shoulders.

Helga glared at him, "Hilarious, Football Head, really hilarious." and with that, she proceeded to attempt hiding her smile behind the menu. It didn't work.

Arnold was just about to steal her menu away, to catch her smiling, because it always led to an adorable little blush, but he was cut off by a familiar voice and readily approaching footsteps.

"Helga!" Phoebe Heyerdahl called out happily, a bright smile on her face as she laid eyes upon her best friend, "Oh, I haven't seen you in _so long_." and she gathered the tall blonde into a tight hug before shuffling into the booth beside her, "How have you been?"

Gerald Johanssen, now officially abandoned by his girlfriend, grinned and slid into the booth by Arnold, reaching out to complete their timeless handshake. Across the table, the girls continued their discussion.

"Fine, Pheebs, just fine." Helga assured her, giving her over-excitable best friend a once over with her eyes before turning to Gerald across the table, "Geraldo, what on earth have you been feeding her?"

Gerald rolled his eyes good naturedly, "Hello Pataki." he said with mock exasperation, "Sorry for the delay." and he motioned between Helga and Arnold, "Good to see you two haven't killed each other yet."

Helga bit the inside of her lip a little, she _had _been very close to attacking him, but not exactly in the angry sort of way Gerald would have been expecting, "It was a close call." she quipped, sending Arnold a look across the table, to which he simply smiled.

"Look at you two!" Phoebe chirped happily, her eyes darting between them, "Talking semi-amiably. Nobody is even throwing anything yet."

Pursing her lips together, Helga clearly recalled the pen throwing incident from the previous year's trip to visit Gerald and Phoebe in Austin. She knew, had their busy schedules allowed it, Gerald and Phoebe would have had them come at different times of the year. After all, everybody knew Helga and Arnold hated each other; at least, that's what everybody _thought_, including Arnold and Helga themselves. Well, until... roughly ten months ago.

She cleared her throat, "Listen, about that, there's something we need to tell you guys-"

"Woah!" Gerald exclaimed suddenly, abruptly cutting into Helga's attempt at enlightening them on recent events, "There's so much bacon in this sandwich!" and he pointed forcefully to the _Bacon Overload_ and its corresponding picture.

Phoebe shook her head with a worried look, "Gerald, saturated fats will decrease your efficiency during training."

He groaned loudly in protest and dropped the menu slightly, "I know, I know." he said with a dejected tone, "Who thought I'd get to the point of wishing I could give up college basketball just for a bacon sandwich?"

Arnold laughed, "Me."

"Okay, _except_ you." Gerald countered, crossing his arms like a child denied candy, "You don't count."

Phoebe shot him a smile, but realising his sulking could continue long into their lunch date, she turned to Helga and attempted to change the subject, "Helga, how is your book going?" and then she paused and thought about it a little further, "How is Hillwood?"

Helga sighed, the book was really stressing her out lately, and before she could even open her mouth to reply she felt a Arnold's leg stroke hers underneath the table and she relaxed. "Book is... almost done." she responded with a smile, which was true, and it possibly would be finished _entirely_ if she wasn't being a perfectionist about it, but that didn't matter, "And... Hillwood is still Hillwood."

"Sounds thrilling." Gerald teased, probably expecting that something exciting must have happened in the four years they'd been in Austin, or at least the year since they'd last visited, but it really hadn't, "About as riveting as watching paint dry."

Arnold chuckled to himself a little, "Watching paint dry isn't so bad, if you've got good company." he stated knowingly, shooting Helga a little look across the table.

Looking at him with great pity, Gerald shook his head, "I think you've been stuck in Hillwood too long, man." he decided, clearly not impressed that his best friend was enjoying the practice of watching paint dry as a general hobby, "Good thing you're down in good ol' Austin, we can live it up!"

Appearing dubious in regards to Gerald's plans, Arnold raised an eyebrow, "Live it up?" he questioned.

Gerald nodded, grinning, "Yeah, you know, experience the nightlife, pick up some sexy single ladies..." and he motioned over toward Phoebe before clarifying, "Well, single ladies for you, but I'll be your wingman."

Arnold grimaced, the concept sounded terrible, and totally unnecessary of course, "Uh Gerald, I don't need a wingman, I-"

"No, no, listen up..." Gerald continued with great enthusiasm, his menu and all thoughts of the _Bacon Overload_ now entirely forgotten, "I've been the official wingman for some guys from the team and I'm top-notch, I swear!"

Helga growled a little, "Geraldo, shut up." she demanded rather bluntly.

Gerald looked very unimpressed, and Phoebe placed a hand on her shoulder, "It's okay Helga, we can go out too." she suggested with a smile, trying her best to rectify what she felt the problem may be, "I'm not certain I possess the necessary skills to be a confident wingwoman but I could attempt t-"

"_No_." Arnold cut her off with a shake of his head.

Helga nodded, and frowned at both Gerald and Phoebe, "Exactly, no." she echoed.

Assured he held their attention, _finally_, Arnold attempted to explain, "Helga and I are-"

"Oh, you know what we could do, Helga?" Phoebe suddenly blurted out, waving her hands around in excitement, and completely forgetting the fact that Arnold was trying to speak, "Dinner at Zambiergo, it's this amazing restaurant just by The Palladium Hotel!"

Helga shook her head and shot Phoebe a sad look, "Sorry, we've been there, done that." she informed her, not that she wouldn't go again, but she wouldn't be able fake 'first time excitement'.

Phoebe pouted slightly, "You've been to Zambiergo?" she asked.

"Yeah, we're staying at The Palladium, so it's convenient." Helga explained.

Looking up from his menu, which he had brought back to eye-level and _still_ had open to the sandwiches page, Gerald frowned, "Pataki, you're only one person." he reminded her , "Quit it with the 'we'."

Helga slammed her fist, her left one, down onto the table and the two silver surfaces created a bright sparkle against one another, "Criminy!" she groaned in frustration.

"Gerald..." Arnold sighed, giving Helga an apologetic look, and wincing slightly from the bright silver light, it was rather ridiculous how reflective the table top was, "I don't quite see how you're not underst-"

Gerald dropped his menu again, eyes dancing with excitement, "Man, I've got a great idea!" he proclaimed, "Tonight we're going to go to the big college street party for the... what is it again, babe?"

Phoebe reached for her phone from her bag, apparently not noticing the blinding light coming from Helga's general vicinity, "Multicultural Day." she confirmed, tapping away at the screen of her phone, "It begins at seven o'clock."

Helga dropped her hand and sighed, maybe she'd just jump Arnold later and get them with the shock approach. Across the table, Gerald grinned at Phoebe, "Yeah, that's it!" he confirmed, turning back to look at Arnold, "How about that?"

"Sure, sounds interesting," Arnold agreed, after all, Helga always found a way to cover herself in glow sticks at street carnivals, and she looked pretty all lit up.

Narrowing her eyes at Gerald, Helga crossed her arms, "Are we _all_ going?" she asked, "Or is this a 'wingman' adventure?"

Gerald frowned, "Uh, I don't know." he said carefully, his eyes flicking from Helga across to Arnold, "Arnold, you happy if Pataki tags along?" he asked doubtfully.

"_Yes_, Gerald." Arnold responded pointedly.

Pumping his fist slightly, Gerald laughed, "Look at that, you guys will be friends in no time." he assured them confidently.

Helga sighed, "Oh yes, I'm sure by the end of the night we'll be _very_ friendly." she said sarcastically, causing Arnold to snigger a little across the table.

"Helga, please, I'm sure you two can learn to get along." Phoebe encouraged gently, with great concern that the fighting and throwing could recommence at any given moment.

Groaning, Helga slumped against the table and let her cheek rest on the shiny, cool, metallic surface, "I give up." she muttered in Arnold's direction and he nodded in sympathy.

Gerald, however, continued on undeterred, "Alright, so we'll pick you up at your hotel around 8, Pataki." he informed her, tapping the details into his phone as he went, "Arnold, where are you staying?"

Arnold sat back with a smirk, "The Palladium, Gerald." he said levelly.

Stilling the movement of his fingers, Gerald looked up with a confused expression, "Same hotel?" he questioned.

"Same freakin' room!" Helga huffed loudly, lifting her head from the table to stare at the both of their friends with great intensity.

They were met with silence, stone cold silence, and two blank stares from unmoving faces. Arnold wondered if they were going to be required to elaborate, and Helga wondered if their brains were going to explode.

"I'm sorry..." Phoebe began slowly, "Helga, are insinuating..."

Gerald raised an eyebrow and continued on for her, "That _you_..." he said, pointing toward Helga, "and _you_..." now pointing in Arnold's direction.

Eyes flicking between them both, Phoebe spoke up again, "Are..."

"Fucking?" Gerald asked, or rather _stated,_ triumphantly.

"Gerald!" Phoebe squeaked in horror, her eyes wide at his assumption, "I was going to say _dating_!"

Gerald looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, considering the validity of her assessment, "Oh... my mind automatically went to hate sex." he concluded.

"Gerald!" Phoebe cried again.

Helga let out a long, deep sigh and raised her left hand onto the table, sliding it directly into both Gerald and Phoebe's line of sight. A few silent moments passed, where the couple simply stared at her finger, and how they managed that considering the blinding glare, Helga would never understand.

"Holy _shit_." Gerald practically shouted once he had fully comprehended the situation, and Helga moved her hand from the middle of the table, over to grasp Arnold's, whilst Phoebe let out a shrill squeal of pure happiness.


	14. You've Got Mail

You've Got Mail  
_(26 years old)_

Helga Pataki did _not_ play fair and she never had, Rhonda Wellington Lloyd could safely testify to that fact.

Unfair conduct was an old habit of Helga's, one that had been displayed time and time again from the day Rhonda first met her at pre-school. As very young children Miss Pataki was often the cause for missing paint pots, and she always managed to cut ahead in the line at snack time. She was sneaky, calculated and absolutely derived of morals. Or, at least, that's what Rhonda liked to tell everybody whenever Helga managed to pull a fast one on her.

During their elementary school days Helga racked up a herculean tally of unjust pursuits, everything from managing to evict the janitor from his _own_ closet in the third grade, to infiltrating the school records system by fifth grade. She was absolutely devious, and Rhonda had a difficult time discerning wether she underwent her schemes for solid and identifiable _reasons_, or if it was all just for kicks.

In high school Helga's more intense shenanigans began to dissipate, and her foul play tactics were put into use in smaller situations, mainly for the benefit of frustrating her friends. Monopoly was irreversibly banned amongst their friends at one stage, especially in small groups, as Helga G. Pataki could not be trusted to keep her thieving hands to herself.

Mainly, however, there was the fact that whenever Helga knew of gossip before Rhonda, which was a surprising amount of times in all honesty, she would find a way to torture her with silence. Rhonda would know Helga was hiding something from the flicker of mischief in her big, evil blue eyes, but the devious blonde would remain tight lipped. Helga would always tell her _eventually_, but always when it was far too late. For example, after Rhonda had made a pass at the gorgeous football player who had a _very strong_ new girlfriend, Helga felt fit to inform her of that fact mere seconds before that very strong girlfriend arrived at their lunch table to kick Rhonda's teeth in.

After these moments, Helga would simply _grin_ with satisfaction at her horrid social felony, like a wicked little minx.

Once, during college, Helga neglected to mention that Rhonda _had_ met the cute guy named 'Tad' from her Economics class before... _because he was Curly Gammelthorpe_. And it was then, after Helga had managed to duck one lampshade and every one of Rhonda's cosmestics, that Rhonda quipped the soon-to-be-infamous line...

"_Honestly, one day I'm just going to wake up to a wedding invitation, and not have even known you were dating!"_

The aforementioned sentiment was then aptly applied to any situation when Helga withheld information, or refused to play fair. Phoebe even began to use it sporadically, and not long after Lila picked it up, too, until it became a classic joke.

Phoebe and Gerald broke up during spring break of Junior year. Helga neglected to mention it until Rhonda invited them to her party – _together_.

"_Won't know 'til I get the invitation." _she grumbled in response.

Lila received a placement at PS118 for her childhood teaching studies during Senior year. Helga laughed when Lila brought it up in conversation later on, much to Rhonda's surprise.

_"Got a wedding invitation for me, Helga?" _she had glared.

Helga's book went to print a year after they finished college, and Rhonda found out via a display in the local bookshop window.

_"Won't tell me a darn thing until I have to buy a bridesmaids dress."_ she growled at Helga's voicemail later than evening.

Last _year_, when Helga couldn't attend Rhonda's yearly reunion celebration, citing a 'personal holiday' as her reasons, Rhonda had become a little suspicious.

_"Hey, you know I might like to meet whatever boyfriend you're hiding at some stage... you know, before I get the invitation to the wedding!" _she had insisted, and Helga had simply laughed.

Now, Rhonda stood in her driveway, hardly dressed for the cold winter weather she was stuck standing in, completely rooted to the spot by her letterbox. Because, Helga Pataki was absolutely, bone-chillingly, soul-consuming-ly, stomach-churning-ly, _EVIL_ and Rhonda had the little piece of fancy paper to prove it.

"I'm going to KILL HER!" Rhonda screeched from her position by the sidewalk, flailing the piece of paper in the face of her dishevelled, and very sleepy, looking boyfriend who had come outside to check on her.

Sliding the paper from her hands, he read over the words quickly and smirked, "Pataki _actually_ did it." he chuckled with amusement, "In all fairness, this is the best thing she's pulled since accessing the records system in fifth grade."

Rhonda glared in return, "It even says '_ps. call me about your dress'_, I mean, who _does _that! I cannot believe her!"

"Hey, at least you should expect something like this from Helga." Tad, or rather Curly, depending on the situation, concluded, "If anything, you should be disappointed in Mr do-the-right-thing for allowing her to get away with it!"

_Dear Mr Thaddeus Gammelthorpe and Miss Rhonda Wellington Lloyd,_

_Your presence in requested at the marriage of..._

_Helga Geraldine Pataki_

_Arnold Phillip Shortman_

_on Sunday, May 16__th__ at 2 o'clock_

_Hillwood Heights Estate_

_1276 Capitol Drive, Hillwood_

_ps. Rhonda, call me about your dress ;)_

Rhonda sighed, "Worst thing is, she gave me a hint... they both didn't come to the reunion for the same reason, _exactly_ the same reason." she glared at the invitation once more, "Evil woman!"

Tad just laughed at her, pulling her into a tight hug and it made her feel so much better that she even let out a little laugh. Pataki had completely outdone her on this one.


	15. About Freakin' Time

About Freakin' Time  
_(20 years old)_

Gerald Johanssen slung his arm around his girlfriend, Phoebe Heyerdahl's shoulder, and yawned a little. Around them, the campus coffee shop buzzed with activity, thousands of caffeine-addicted students lining up for their sustenance with exams fast approaching. Gerald could sympathize with each and every one of them, having pulled an all-nighter with Phoebe just a few hours ago to cram for both of their upcoming examinations.

Phoebe blinked slowly at the weight of his arm around her shoulder and glanced up at him with an understanding expression. "Perhaps, we should forgo our planned lunch date.." she suggested politely, "we could have some rest instead?"

Sighing, Gerald looked down into the empty cup of takeaway coffee sitting on the table, cursing it for not curing his overwhelming fatigue. "You sure, babe?" he asked warily, rubbing a hand against his forehead, "Aren't you hungry?"

"I'm positive, Gerald." she assured him sincerely, standing from her seat and motioning for him to follow her lead, "I believe we will both benefit academically and otherwise from a well-earned rest."

Gerald shot her a thankful smile, he was far more tired than hungry anyhow. "Thanks babe... we could go back to my dorm for a rest?" he suggested, slowly standing from his chair with a small groan considering how heavy his limbs felt._  
_

Phoebe frowned as they began to meander their way out of the cafe, "Won't Arnold be there?" she asked, "I woud not want to disturb his study."

"Nah, Shortman is doing research in the library." Gerald assured her, taking a quick glance at his watch, "It's only ten o'clock in the morning - he's usually not back until after lunch."

Surprisingly, the news did not seem to quell Phoebe's worries, actually she looked even further concerned. "Oh dear..." she said softly, her eyes flicking up to meet his as they approached the dormitory building, "I hope he has not gone to the Rosewood wing."

Gerald raised an eyebrow at her, Arnold practically _lived_ in the Rosewood wing of the college library and Phoebe was well aware of that. "Where else would he be?" he wondered.

Phoebe shook her head, "Nowhere else, I suppose." she said, biting her lip lightly and letting out a pained sigh, "Helga will be in Rosewood today."

"_Oh shit_." Gerald groaned dramatically, running a hand through his thick black hair, "If they run into each other, Arnold will come back in a _mood_ and he'll be grumpy and horrible to live with."

Phoebe grimaced sightly, "Helga will be much the same." she agreed as Gerald lead her up the buildings grand staircase, "Only, with the addition of throwing things against our dorm wall to release her pent up violent energy."

Gerald scoffed at the mention of _pent up energy_, "It's about time they just screwed each other already!" he whined in a rather unmanly, and frustrated, way. "I mean, _how_ have they failed to notice the sexual tension? I swear they get off on yelling at each other."

"I... well, I suppose that is a correct analysis." Phoebe said seriously, her face the picture of concentration as she began to dredge up memories of a recent psychological case study. "I recently discovered an article on new research in regard to relationships much like Arnold and Helga's. It is commonly known as-"

Phoebe's sentence went entirely unfinished, and her theory largely unexplained, the very moment Gerald pushed open the door to his and Arnold's dormitory. Immediately, because it was difficult _not_ to notice, both Gerald and Phoebe's eyes widened at the sight of the two people utilizing the couch. Upon realizing they had been interrupted, Helga yelped and attempted to cover her face with her hands - which was a strange impulse considering she was completely naked. Arnold, more appropriately, grabbed frantically for a nearby blanket to cover the both of them.

Gerald gaped for a good few moments, doing his very best to process the surprise of walking in on his best friend getting it on with his girlfriends best friend. However, once the covers landed over their bodies he began shouting incredibly loudly, "Ha! It's about goddamn time!

Beside him, both still hovering in the doorway, Phoebe gave him a strong stare for his inappropriate expression, but didn't seem to know what to say herself. "I... uh... well, _yes__..." _she finally managed to concur, "I must agree, it is _certainly_ about time."

On the couch, neither Arnold nor Helga gave any response. In fact, they both looked fairly horrified and possibly frozen in compete shock at the reality of their situation. Helga still had her hands firmly planted on her face, not daring to open her eyes to the world and Arnold seemed rather worried.

Recalling that he was still hovering inches inside his own dormitory doorway, Gerald began to reach for the door-handle so he and Phoebe could step back and get out of there. His motions were interrupted, however, when loud footsteps sounded in the hallway and a familiar voice rang out from behind them.

"Gerald, you up to much this afternoon?" Harold's voice boomed loudly as he approached with a football tucked under his arm, "The boys were thinkn' of... uh, what you doing standing in your doorway like that?"

Helga tore her hands away from her face over on the couch, "Close the door, Gerald!" she hissed from inside the dorm room.

Out in the hallway, the sudden command only served to raise Harold's curiosity further, and he ambled over toward Phoebe and Gerald's location to peer into the room. A sly grin spread across his face as he surveyed his findings, "Hey, watdya know!" he cried out with a deep chuckle, his eyes shining with amusement. "It's about freakin' time!"

Arnold sighed deeply and Helga shot a pleading look in Phoebe's direction, silently begging her friend to _close the door, already_. Phoebe, coming to her senses a little once more, was just about to reach for the door-handle herself when another familiar voice sounded from the top of the stairwell.

"What's about freakin' time?" Rhonda demanded with a raised eyebrow, descending the staircase with Curly in tow. Curly resided in a dormitory on the level above Phoebe and Gerald but Rhonda didn't often spend time there, the couple tended to prefer using her townhouse a few streets away. However, being Rhonda, she always had an uncanny ability to show up whenever gossip was unfolding.

Curly, being far taller than anybody else thanks to an incredibly rapid growth spurt during high school, was able to peer into the dorm the moment he reached the last few stairs. Immediately, he smirked and let out a high-pitched whistle, "Oooh, _finally_ getting freaky!" he cackled in delight as he grasped Rhonda by the waist, lifting her up so she could witness the event, also.

"_Ohmygoshohmygosh_." Rhonda squealed as she was hoisted into the air, her speech so rushed it came out sounding like one word rather than six.

Having apparently given up all hope that their friends might leave them in peace, Arnold rolled slightly to the side, wrapping his arms around Helga from behind and moving the colourful blanket even higher over their shoulders. Covered now entirely from the neck down, Helga tired once more to cover her face with her blanketed hands.

"Why are we all having a congregation?" came a voice from behind the five friends milling around the doorway. Curly startled a little and almost dropped Rhonda, safely putting her onto the ground a moment later. Meanwhile, Harold, Phoebe and Gerald all blinked in surprise and turned to look at the newest arrival.

Sid, who resided in the dormitory just two doors down with Stinky, was peering out from _his_ doorway with a confused expression. Harold motioned toward Gerald and Phoebe's dorm in explanation, "You'll wanna come check this one out for yourself." he assured him.

Shrugging casually, Sid slipped out into the hallway and sauntered down toward his friends room. In a few short steps he was up on tip-toes to peer over Harold and Gerald's shoulders and looking over at the couch. "YES!" he shouted for reasons that everybody in the doorway, aside from Phoebe and Gerald, seemed to understand completely. "I gotta tell Stinky!" he continued exuberantly, pumping his fists and cheering, "I WON THE BET, BITCHES!"

Gerald glared as Sid scurried off down the hallway and back into his own dorm room, clearly searching for Stinky. "Hey!" Gerald grumbled sulkily, "Nobody ever included _me_ in this bet!"

Curly shook his head and offered Gerald a pat on the back, "Be grateful." he assured him, "It's been in effect since _freshman year_ of high school and none of us, save Sid, bet anything further than their eighteenth birthdays."

"You _bet_ on us?" a very, _very_ unhappy Helga growled from the couch. She looked ready to kill, and was without a doubt, itching to storm over and teach them all a lesson. In fact, the moment she was able to find her clothes, they were no doubt all dead men.

Helga's question was not directly answered, however the appearance of Stinky in the doorway, followed his his disheartened expression and the exchanging of folded notes with Sid, served to confirm it anyway. "Dang it." he said ruefully as he parted with his cash, "My money was on ya _three years_ ago!"

Grinning at his good fortune, Sid tucked the bills into his coat pocket and shook Stinky's hand. "Nice doing business with you, my good friend." he smirked.

"Alright, are you all _done_ now?" Arnold spoke up sternly from the couch, where Helga had resorted to slowly burying her face in the crook of his neck. Arnold, notably, seemed to be enjoying her course of action.

"_I_ was done ages ago," Gerald protested, and then motioned to the small crowd of childhood friends in the doorway, "but I'm stuck in the middle of everybody!"

Slowly, with a few murmurs of _oooh, look at Arnold getting all grumpy_, the group began to step backward from the doorway and prepare to return to their prior activities. It was, apparently, not going to happen at that moment though, because everybody had noticed two _more_ people coming up the hallway. Neither of them resided in this building, so their arrival was strange to say the least, but when it came to Brainy appearing unexpectedly it was always best not to ask.

"Well, strike me down." came the amused tone of a voice nobody had even properly become acquainted with until junior year of high school. Brainy, who stood with Lila directly beside him, chuckled at the sight he had been waiting for since preschool. The Arnold and Helga together part, that is, not the _naked_ together part. He crossed his arms and shot them a shrewd look, "You two _finally _figured it out, huh?"

Lila shook her head a little and muttered, just loudly enough for those nearby to hear, "It's about fucking time."

Shocked, everybody gasped and turned to gape at her as though she had grown antlers. On the couch, Arnold tilted his head in disbelief and Helga moved from her 'hiding spot' and raised a curious eyebrow.

In response to their surprise, Lila merely shrugged and stated in her regular polite tone, "It's just that they were being ever so stupid."

Phoebe pursed her lips and gave a small nod, "I believe that is certainly the general consensus here." she agreed.

Helga groaned loudly and nuzzled her head back into its safe place in the crook of Arnold's neck once more. "If I wasn't naked..." she muttered softly, only loud enough for him to hear, "I'd set fire to the lot of them."

Running a comforting hand along her shoulder underneath the blanket, Arnold pulled back and shot her an apologetic look - mainly considering the inconvenient choice of location had been his fault. "I know." he said understandingly, "If it makes you feel any better, I think I'd let you..."

Helga slowly smiled and wrapped her arms around his body, as their classmates continued to chatter about their 'stupidity' over by the doorway. "Hmmm, yes..." she murmured happily, "Yes, that does make me feel better."


End file.
